


Jane and Tarzan, Scene 4

by jro512



Series: Jane and Tarzan (Disney 1999) [4]
Category: Tarzan (1999)
Genre: F/M, Romance, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 15:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5422844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jro512/pseuds/jro512
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>night out</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jane and Tarzan, Scene 4

Jane loves the water. Every night before hunkering down, she escapes from Porter and Clayton, sitting around the campfire and smoking their cigars, and tramps down the beach and through the waves.  
Tramps, indeed, she thinks to herself, or so Clayton would grumble. The Thames was no beach, so when she heard she'd be camped just a few yards from virgin ocean shores, she went out straightaway and bought a swim dress. It was a great, awkward thing with a corseted waist and puffy pantaloons and a stiff bustled skirt poking out in the back. To top it all off, a ridiculous starched ribbon sat just above the waist. The salesgirl at Fortnum's assured her it was one of the top sellers of the season, and most comfortable for "modest water recreation." Jane had asked if they had anything that might withstand water above the ankles.  
They did not.  
So every night before curling up, Jane dons a long undershirt, a pair of knickers, and a robe, and watches the sunset immersed in the soothing turbulence of the waves. And every night, Clayton grumbles around a fat cigar, nose stuck in a map in front of the campfire, making little swish marks now and then with a fountain pen.  
But today the camp feels different. Clayton and Porter have made a successful breakthrough in tracking the gorillas' movements, and sighted a troop of gibbons along the way. Tarzan convinced Terk to stop by the camp and rather indelicately poke around the contraptions therein, provoking great delight from Porter and even a steady curious gaze from cross-armed Clayton. Their departure has left a happy buzz in the air.  
The sun is beginning to sink toward the horizon. Clayton is stretched out from head to toe on a collapsible wicker chair, dozing with his hands clasped behind his head. Porter has retreated to his tent with a touch of indigestion. Jane ducks into her tent and slips into a white undershirt, an old pair of pale blue knickers, and a silk robe, and absconds quietly into the trees.  
On the other side, Tarzan is waiting for her on the sand, skipping pebbles into the water. Jane absorbs the sight of him. His tanned skin glows, especially where the early evening sunlight bends around the edges of his silhouette, darkening the shadows that accentuate the musculature of his back, his buttocks, his calves.  
She licks her lips, unexpectedly dry, and pulls the robe tight around her waist. "Tarzan!" she calls and pads toward him through the fine, warm sand.  
Tarzan turns and a smile widens across his cheeks. He takes in the beauty of her form as she trots his way. Seated and still, she is like a picture, lovely and pleasing. But her glory is in her movement, in the sway of her hips, the gesticulations of her hands, the bounce in her step-- and other places too. The robe flutters in the sea breeze, hugging the swell of her breasts and the softness of her thighs. He reaches out to cup one rosy cheek in his palm and kiss the other.  
"Jane is very beautiful today," says Tarzan.  
Jane gives a ladylike snort begins to object, feeling rather rumpled in old underthings and unpinned hair. But the unabashed sincerity in Tarzan's voice every time he insists that she is beautiful has begun to wear away Jane's reflexive responses of modesty. So instead, she returns his gaze and his kiss. "Thank you."  
"Here." He drapes a fine silver cable over her shoulders and clasps it in the back. In the V where the two sides of her robe cross hangs a locket containing a picture of Jane and a picture of her mother. "Terk took, to see inside and show the others. I tell her no, return to Jane. Necklace is Jane's."  
"That... little scamp! Next time, she stays out of my tent!" Jane shakes her finger at Tarzan, half in a huff and half laughing at herself for leaving jewelry out in the presence of a curious primate.  
Tarzan laughs and takes her hand in both of his. "No tent," he agrees. As he says it, a cloud passes over his brow. "Well... Jane has necklace." He strokes her cheek, just brushing her earlobe with his thumb. He knows that Jane swims in the ocean before dusk, and that she prefers privacy. His lips brush her forehead. "Tarzan come back tomorrow," he whispers, and turns toward the trees.  
Jane watches him take a few steps and chews on her lower lip.  
"Tarzan, wait!" she calls after him.  
He turns. Jane takes a hesitant step toward him. "Stay... a little while?"  
Tarzan's eyebrows jump. "Stay with Jane?" He's never been invited to stay past dusk.  
Jane nods. "If you please. We could..." She twirls the belt of the robe around her index finger, searching for some suitable activity to legitimize her request. "We could visit the waterfall. I've never seen it at night."  
Tarzan's eyes sparkle. He sweeps Jane up into the trees and makes for the great pool where, years ago, he retrieved an elephant hair to impress Terk's friends. Shadow has overtaken the jungle beneath the canopy and animals are nesting for the night. But the waterfall by sunset and starlight will be a sight for his Jane to behold. She clings faithfully to his chest, and he keeps one arm steadfast around her waist. She trusts him completely.  
The treeline breaks and the sudden vista of the great tiered cascade takes Jane's breath away. Rainbows climb up as water plummets down, flowing past a series of calmer, deeper pools on its way to the shallows and the final fall into the broad river below. The hues of the sunset are reflected in searing streaks of orange and yellow and pink rippling over the surface. Tarzan sets Jane on her feet on a small promontory jutting out over the water at about twice her height.  
"It's amazing!" she cries.  
Tarzan beams. "Terk and me, and the elephants-- swim here, and chase and hide. Hide from Kerchak a lot, long time ago." He lowers his hand about two feet above the rock, flat with his palm down, indicating height. "Small."  
"Is it safe?" Jane asks, kneeling down to peer over the edge. The water is so clear, she sees tiny fishes darting to and fro among the plants at the bottom. "No, um... piranhas or anything?"  
Tarzan takes a running start from behind her crouched form, and jumps up and over her, splashing into the pool below like a boulder. The spray catches Jane off guard; she wipes her face with the sleeve of the soggy robe.  
"Hey!" she shouts when Tarzan surfaces. She throws the robe aside and crosses her arms over her chest. "You big oaf!"  
Tarzan kicks more water up at her, as if challenging her to do something about it. The water is beginning to soak right through her flimsy garments. "Oh, hell," she mutters.  
She retreats farther back, and Tarzan calls after her. He can no longer see her, and he is about to climb up and see if she's all right.  
A vibrant shout rips through the air, full and excited, a perfect mimic of his own victorious cry. Jane flies overhead, shot from the promontory like a bullet from one of Clayton's rifles. Tarzan shields himself from the wave with his forearm. When she surfaces, she lets out a colossal yelp, and her slender arms are already covered with goosebumps.  
"A b-bit chilly!" she squeaks. Her hair clings in heavy, wet chunks to her head. She paddles furiously to stay afloat. Tarzan throws his head back and guffaws.  
"Swim!" Tarzan darts under her, agile and free-flowing like a fish, then pops up behind her. "No splash." He imitates her impotent slapping at the surface of the water. "Swim!" He glides a full circle around her as if to emphasize the ease of the movement.  
Jane chases after him, and the game of tag ensues. Tarzan plays as fair as he can, until he gives in to temptation and nips Jane from underneath and behind and any surprising angle. But Jane is skilled at concealment, and manages to pull a few tricks on Tarzan too.  
By the time darkness snuffs out the last ray of color on the horizon, Jane is exhausted. Tarzan tows her lovingly to a leafy nook behind one of the smaller falls. The interior is mossy and smells of greenery and the luminescent purple flowers blooming in the cracks of the rock. Between the narrow curtain of water and the opening of the alcove, Jane watches the stars glimmer to life. There are so many of them, swaths of jewel dust in the great expanse of humid jungle sky. She leans back against Tarzan's chest and lulls in the sensation of his fingers stroking her hair and their breathing calming into synchrony.  
“Tarzan.” Her voice leaves her lips in a lazy hum.  
“Jane?”  
Muffled chirps echo from a nest nearby, punctuating the din of the falls.  
“I don’t want to go back to the camp.”  
A shooting star traces an arc high overhead.  
“Then we stay here.”


End file.
